The Claw That Rocks the Cradle
by Silverspoon
Summary: Jo Harvelle-Winchester thinks pregnancy sucks; back ache, weight gain, and... flesh eating Mommies! Not to mention the fact that the new Lamaze teacher is a familiar and unwelcome face from the past. Total AU where nothing is as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors – **WelshWitch1011 & Silverspoon

**Rating -** T

**Genre – **Complete and utter crack!

**A. N. - **This fic is set in the post- 'Hitched' universe. You do not have to have read that fic first but it is available on Silverspoon's profile if you would like to. Dean and Jo have been married approximately 8 months.

**'The Claw That Rocks the Cradle'**

**Chapter One**

**Mt. Pleasant, Michigan**

**December 1st 2011**

Twisting around as best she could, Jo Winchester examined her reflection in the floor length mirror of her motel room, and her upper lip curled into a snarl of disapproval. A dull ache at the base of her back niggled at the remaining traces of her patience, and Jo almost growled as she slid both palms over her distinctly swollen stomach. She had rebelled against the maternity blouses offered to her by her husband and brother-in-law, instead settling for one of Dean's t-shirts over the expandable jeans she had had no other choice than to don. She may have been the size of a whale but Jo would rather be eviscerated by a rampant werewolf than consent to be seen in the gauzy, pastel circus tents that seemed to pass for maternity wear. Perhaps the only thing worse were the t-shirts hanging in the local Walmart, which had sported obnoxious slogans that had almost served to trigger the young hunter's gag reflex.

Spinning around so that her left side now faced the mirror, Jo continued to stare at herself, wondering morosely whether the day could really get any worse. She stiffened as a pair of arms encircled her from behind and somewhat awkwardly rested on the swell of her abdomen before patting the large bump as an afterthought.

"How's junior doing?" Dean inquired, his eyes alight and his lips twisted into a smirk that would have ordinarily rewarded him with a sharp smack across the head, had Jo been granted her full motility.

With a well-practiced roll of her eyes, Jo glowered at her husband.

"I hate you so much right now."  
Dean chuckled gleefully, ignoring her tensed jaw and murderous expression as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. He released her from his embrace and smoothed his hand pointedly over her burgeoning bump.  
"Don't get so worked up, sweetheart," he directed, hardly able to speak through his amused grin, "it's not good for the baby."

Groaning dramatically in annoyance, Jo folded her arms across her chest, her lips pulled into a tight line as she rechecked her reflection; it hadn't gotten any better. Glancing up from behind the laptop screen, Sam smiled affectionately at his sister in-law as he closed the lid with a soft click.

"I think you look beautiful," he stated, his expression genuinely pleasant as he surveyed Jo's bump and his brother's hands resting atop it.

"And you can shut the hell up!" Jo spat before hurling a bunched up t-shirt at Sam, who deftly ducked the incoming missile.  
"This is all your fault!" Jo accused, rounding on Dean and jabbing her finger in his direction as she planted her other hand on her hip and advanced toward him.  
"Jo, come on, just... just sit down, take it easy, okay?!" Dean directed, gently taking hold of her elbow as he led her toward the threadbare couch.

"Take it easy?" she repeated, cursing under her breath as she attempted to lower herself into a sitting position and almost overbalanced, "you're not the one carrying around this big ass belly!"  
Holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender, Dean widened his eyes as he looked down at his furious wife, "Darlin', if I could, I would. It's just for a couple more days."  
Jo huffed indignantly but allowed him to enclose her hand in his own, "I'm miserable, Dean! I can't move! I'm hot, I'm uncomfortable, and if I have to drag my giant ass to the damn bathroom one more time..."  
"I know," he assuaged, furiously attempting to fight the chuckle threatening to escape his mouth, "but it's all gonna be worth it in the end, right?"

Turning to regard his brother momentarily, Dean sought some much needed reinforcement, "Right, Sammy?"  
"Absolutely," Sam agreed, nodding vehemently as he attempted to avoid Jo's eye.  
"You guys suck," Jo muttered, her head rolling back to rest against the couch as she stared up at the ceiling fan. She pointedly ignored the jarring motion of Dean dropping down in the seat beside her.

"Have you thought of any names yet?" Sam inquired, leaning forwards and peering with interest at the couple, who shot him equally bemused looks. He explained quickly, "Because people will ask."

Immediately, Dean's lips twitched as he fought to contain another smirk.

"I've always thought Wendy was real nice," he said, settling back against the sagging cushions and folding his hands in his lap.

"You can't name a child after your favourite fast food chain, Dean," Jo grumbled irritably, struggling to fold her arms and finally giving up with a groan.

"I wasn't," Dean defended, adding with a chuckle, "I wouldn't dream of calling my kid 'Taco Bell'."

"Belle's pretty," Sam offered, reaching for his handgun and beginning to dismantle it systematically. Blowing into the emptied barrel, he began rubbing a clean oil rag along the length of the shaft.

"Who says it's a girl?" Jo demanded, her irritation building by the second, "what if it's a boy? Huh?"

"Please, it's clearly a girl," Dean countered, his tone beginning to grow argumentative. Jo strained to lean forwards from her position on the couch, her eyes narrowed as she glared at her husband.

Sam sat back in his chair and eyed them both with evident concern, "I think you guys are taking this thing a little too far."  
Ignoring him completely, Jo continued undeterred, "So you're saying you're not into that whole 'carrying on the family name', macho crap?"  
Dean shook his head and slid his hands behind his neck as he tried to get comfortable.

"Nope," he stated definitely, reaching out a hand and curving his fingers around the swell of Jo's stomach. "Far as I'm concerned, this kid is a girl."  
Grinning mischievously, Dean arched an eyebrow as he tapped Jo playfully on the tip of her nose, "With her Momma's eyes, her Daddy's charming yet mysterious smile... and hopefully a flame retardant lining."

Jo laughed and simply watched as Dean attempted to fluff the large, foam bump into a pillow, before resting his head awkwardly upon it. Dean closed his eyes and breathed a contented sighed as Jo began to comb her fingers through his hair.  
"You know," Sam began ruefully, "if you two do ever really have a kid someday..."  
Dean's eyebrows knitted into a frown and he angled his head to address the foam belly, which they had borrowed from an acquaintance at a theatre shop, "Shhh, don't listen to your Uncle Sammy."

"I worry about you," Jo stated, giggling as Dean waggled his eyebrows comically. Her expression sobered as she added, "But seriously, can we just get gone already so I can take this damned thing off sooner? It's really heavy!"

"Class doesn't start for another twenty minutes, Jo," Sam said as he plucked a purple paper leaflet from the nightstand and examined it with interest. "If we turn up too early, it'll look suspicious."

Jo snorted derisively at Sam's warning, shaking her head as she wondered how exactly their presence at an ante-natal group would seem normal. She highly doubted that their calibre of people was the type to frequent such gatherings, although she suspected that Sam was secretly looking forward to the experience given his notable enthusiasm so far.

"So, what do we got, Sammy?" Dean inquired, resting his feet on the already scuffed surface of the coffee table in front of him and crossing his legs at the ankles. Jo wrinkled her nose almost demurely as she noted the dirt encrusted soles of his boots, which were brown and muddied enough to give her cause to think that he had neglected to clean them after their latest graveyard jaunt.

"Feet!" she said pointedly, thwacking his thigh with the back of her hand and smirking as Dean shot her a look, yet obediently placed both feet on the floor.

"Five recent disappearances all linked to a small, private ante-natal group," Sam replied, removing a pen from his pocket and beginning to scrawl notes on a pad.

"Any particular pattern with the missing persons?" Jo pressed, momentarily forgetting her discomfort as she began to feel more engaged in the case. Sam paused to examine a file that was spread open in front of him before shaking his head.

"The first disappearance was Mike Frakes, a happily married daddy-to-be… second was Tania Benedict, sister and designated birth partner…" he trailed off as Jo interjected, her query cutting him dead.

"What about the class leader?" she suggested a little too eagerly, ignoring the mildly irritated glance that Sam directed at her as a consequence of her interruption.

"The fourth victim," he answered, not missing a beat, "Roseanna Constavos- ex-nurse, grandmother of five, and part-time Yoga devotee. In her spare time, she liked to volunteer at homeless shelters and knit teddy bears for the babies in the local NICU."

"Probably not our monster," Jo lamented quietly, averting her eyes under the weight of Sam's displeased stare.

"Probably not," he conceded sourly, returning his attention to the paperwork.

"You know, if it weren't for the possibility that one of the glowing mommas is an evil, flesh eating monster... this'd be kind of fun," Dean observed, earning a disgusted look from his wife.

"Exactly which part of this is fun, Dean-o?" Jo demanded askance, peering down at her foam bump with a confused expression as she awaited Dean's explanation.

Shrugging under the scrutiny of their gaze, Dean folded his arms across his chest as he deliberated his response, "Well, it's just nice to feel... normal, I guess. You know, the whole Lamaze... baby class crap… it's what regular people do, right?!"

"I guess," Jo agreed, frowning disdainfully as she swept her gaze over the class flyer and felt a tide of unease wash over her as she read the words _'Blooming Bumps'_.

"It'll be fun," Dean enthused, patting the top of her bump for effect, "we get to act like the regular folks, and kill something fugly."

Jo rewarded him with a withering glare, and Sam simply laughed in disbelief at his brother's optimistic tone.

"Don't mind them, Wendy," Dean muttered, poking his finger into the foam and watching with interest as it sprang back up beneath his touch. "Hey… I think she kicked."

Flicking Dean on the forehead, Jo pushed him from her lap, shaking her head as she re-arranged the cumbersome padding and ignored his gleeful chuckling.

"Can we please just go and get this over with?" Jo pleaded, ignoring Dean and choosing to focus her wide eyed, 'Bambi-esque' stare on Sam who, similarly to his brother, was almost always rendered powerless by the gesture.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, smiling tightly as he rose from the table and grabbed his jacket.

Jo shuffled to the edge of the couch, pushing herself up with her hands as she struggled to move from her seat.

"A little help here?" she pleaded as she raised a blond eyebrow at Dean and sighed in annoyance. Dean reached down in order to grip her hands, and then hauled her to her feet with an audible and obviously faked grunt.

"You just laugh it up, Dean-o," Jo seethed as she intercepted the errant smirk that Dean had been attempting to hide behind the back of his hand. "I'll be waiting."

Dean's grin faded as quickly as it had appeared and he affixed Jo with an evidently concerned look.

"Waiting…" he repeated, testing the weight of the threat on his tongue. Jo nodded once and turned on her heel without a further word, marching straight through the door that Sam held open for her.

"Waiting for what?" he demanded, his voice growing louder as he attempted to reach his wife in the parking lot. "Jo? Waiting for what, Jo?!"

Sam simply shook his head as he watched his now terrified and wide eyed sibling stumble out into the parking lot. It was shaping up to be a long afternoon.

**x-x-x**

Jo hugged herself almost self-consciously as she glared with unmasked hostility out across the sea of pregnant women and their partners. So far she had yet to clock anything more threatening than the paper cup of peppermint tea that had been thrust at her by a well-meaning 'Mary-Sue'. She had promptly asked for a black coffee instead, only to be nothing short of outraged to discover that caffeine was on the rather lengthy list of contraband food stuffs for pregnant women. Instead, the refreshments table had been stocked with water, a variety of herbal teas, and segments of sliced apple.

"This blows," Jo muttered, rolling her eyes and resting her folded arms on the top of her bump. At her side, Dean seemed both transfixed and confused by a plastic model of the female reproductive system.

"What the hell is this?" he hissed, obviously baffled as he squinted at the thing he held, turning it this way and that in order to better examine it.

"It's a uterus, Dean," Sam replied with a smug smile in place, watching as his horrified sibling juggled the model in his hands as realisation dawned.

Jo affixed a smile upon her face as she registered a couple heading in their direction, but she sighed in despair as the teaching model broke into pieces in her husband's hands before raining down on the carpet. A single ovary bounced away and rolled underneath the refreshment table, and Jo felt her stomach dip.

"Incoming," Jo spoke through clenched teeth, "so pick the cervix up off the damn floor and get over here, Winchester!"

Gathering the model into a pile of disjointed pieces, Dean dropped it onto the nearby table and threw a pillow over to hide the results of his manhandling.

Joining Jo, he draped his arm around her waist and mustered a similarly fake smile.

"Oh hey, new faces!" The woman beamed, hugging her husband's arm excitedly as she waddled toward them, one hand resting on the peak of the impressive bump she sported.

"We're the Hendersons," she announced, casting an analytical eye over Dean and Jo as she added, "I'm Marcy, this is my husband Bill, and this... is Avery-Grace!"

Jo smiled tightly as the woman caressed her abdomen and, taking her cue, she rested her hand on her own, less sizeable bump, "Hi, I'm Jo and this is my husband, Dean."

Dean nodded in greeting, patting his wife's fake stomach as he added, "And this is Wendy!"

Jo laughed pointedly and delivered a swift elbow to his ribs, "Oh, sweetheart, we still need to talk about that!"

Shooting Dean a sympathetic shrug, Bill rested his hand on his wife's shoulder, "This is number six and she's never let me name one yet!"

"So is this your first little bundle?" Marcy inquired, her eyes roving intently over the couple.

"Yep," Jo nodded, struggling to muster as much enthusiasm as she could for the impending conversation.

"Oh, well... the first is the hardest. After that, the others are a breeze!" Marcy said almost warmly, pausing before she added, "I'll give you my number and if you need anything at all, you just call me, anytime. I have the best book on breast feeding. I'll bring it to the next class. You _are_ going to breast feed, right?"

Jo's eyes widened in horror at this new line of questioning, and her mouth opened and closed repeatedly without a single murmur passing her lips.

Marcy shrugged, a thoroughly smug smirk dominating her features, "I certainly hope so. You know what they say, right? '_Breast is best'_!"

"Well, I... uh... I..." Jo stammered, looking desperately to Sam for some kind of intervention.

"Right, Dean?" Marcy cajoled, clearly intent on enforcing her point.

Grinning mischievously, Dean replied, "I've always thought so."

Dean yelped in pain as Jo rammed her elbow somewhat more vigorously into the space underneath his ribs. He rubbed the offending area and mumbled under his breath as he frowned down at the back of Jo's head.

"Oh, here's the new instructor!" Marcy clasped her hands together, finally turning her attention from Dean and Jo toward the front of the room, where a door was in the process of swinging open.

"Would you quit being such an ass?!" Jo growled, whirling around to begin a whispered argument with Dean, much to the chagrin of Sam, who was trying desperately to remain inconspicuous as he deflected each quizzical glance from their classmates with a nod of greeting.

Sam's eyes suddenly narrowed as he squinted to get a better look at the replacement instructor, and that was the moment things took a decidedly more surreal turn.

With his eyes wide, Sam hissed under his breath, "Oh shi..."

Dean and Jo turned in unison, both confused by Sam's sudden and apparent state of alarm. Seconds later, Dean's mouth dropped open in horror as a booming female voice cut across the room.

"Dean?!"

Slowly, and with a sense of dread flooding him, Dean turned to stare straight into the face of Lisa Braeden.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors – **WelshWitch1011 & Silverspoon

**Rating -** T

**Genre – **Complete and utter crack!

**A. N. – **We love Wendy. Wendy loves reviews. Review and make Wendy happy?

**'The Claw That Rocks the Cradle'**

**Chapter Two**

Feeling as though his lungs had been ripped out of his chest, Dean continued to stare at Lisa, open mouthed and sick to the stomach. His breath came eventually but when it did, it was in short, sharp gasps that sounded oddly as though he were being physically strangled, which – from the murderous look on Lisa's face – was not entirely out of the question.

Lisa stared back with equal weight in her gaze, her knuckles whitening as they tightened around the exercise mat she held in front of her like a shield. Sam and Jo remained motionless, both silenced by their shock, and leaving Dean alone to face the unexpected blast from the not so distant past. For several moments, nobody uttered a word, all eyes in the room having been drawn to the new teacher and new class arrival, whom it appeared shared some sort of history.

Marcy shuffled a little closer, sensing the hostility, and thus eager to catch every word that may be exchanged in the coming minutes. Finally, Lisa broke the silence, her voice ricocheting around the small space and reverberating back at Dean like a slap in the face.

"Dean…" she repeated, shaking herself somewhat from her stupor, before she demanded, "what are _you_ doing here?"

Dean's eyes widened as he peered at Lisa; the question of how she even remembered the Winchesters was communicated between the brothers through desperate exchanged glances. Castiel had promised to remove all memories of Dean from her mind, and yet Lisa's recollection was evident. For just a moment, her eyes ventured to Sam and Jo, the latter of whom she scrutinised with interest.

"Hey, Lisa," Dean choked out, managing a brief smile. He gestured toward her as an afterthought, adding, "You look... good."

"Uh-huh," she replied, tossing the yoga mat aside and folding her arms against her chest. Her stance was defensive and Dean was not certain that he could blame her. At his side, Jo bristled and took a step forwards.

"Dean, you want to introduce me to your friend?" Jo probed, suddenly realising as the words left her lips just who the woman before her was, or more specifically, who she had been to her husband. Whilst Dean had been unhappy in his attempt at a suburban life and had struggled against the restrictions Lisa had placed upon him, Jo knew that he felt a degree of guilt at having subjected her to a world she clearly wanted no part in.

"Uh, yeah... uh… Jo… this is Lisa Braeden, we're uh... old friends," he stammered, almost choking on the words as they threatened to lodge in his throat. He was suddenly aware of how the temperature in the room seemed to have risen several degrees or so, feeling the sweat beading on his brow and making the palms of his hands moist.

"Hi," Jo stated, her uncomfortable smile a mirror image of Dean's. She rested her hand absently on the top of the foam bump and noted with a burst of satisfaction how Lisa's eyes followed the movement.

"Hi," Lisa answered in a guarded tone, her expression unreadable as she awarded Jo another cursory glance. Lisa's mouth was twisted into a curious half smile, so obviously forced, as she attempted to ascertain to which of the brothers Jo could be linked.

Shaking his head as if suddenly regaining his senses, Dean squeezed Jo's hand, "This is Jo... my wife."

Sam glanced down at his boots, trying desperately to bite back the smile he felt twitching at his lips. Lisa had never been his biggest fan, something that had ultimately helped to cement the end of her relationship with Dean, and his less mature side could not help but find a sliver of satisfaction in the shocked look that slammed across the older woman's features. Really, when Sam considered things, the situation was all kinds of hilarious.

"_Wife_," Lisa repeated, her voice unnaturally high and strained. She avoided looking at Jo as she pressed, "And you guys are…"

"Having a baby?" Dean finished, the statement coming out as more of a question as he began to feel like his own treacherous throat was closing up on him again. Lisa nodded, pursing her lips and sucking on her teeth as she contemplated the revelation.

"Then I guess… 'congratulations'," she said, managing to maintain an impressively poised demeanour as she faced Dean, who stumbled through a nod of agreement.

"What are… what are you…" Dean began, feeling the blush rising from the nape of his neck and towards his cheeks. Suddenly, the room didn't seem nearly big enough to contain so many people and he began to feel rather like a sardine in a can. The thought almost made him breathless, but Dean managed to reign in his discomfort as Jo gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm the new instructor," Lisa explained, finally remembering the presence of the dozen or so other people surrounding them. Her eyes swept the sea of couples, who were all gazing in equal confusion at her, and she quickly fixed an all-business smile in place, which relaxed the tension in the room somewhat.

"We should really get started," Lisa observed, clapping her hands together and beginning to move towards the centre of the space. Dean cleared his throat, his eyes imploring.

"Could we uhm… maybe… could I…" he trailed off, hooking one thumb in the direction of the corridor and signifying that Lisa should follow. Jo narrowed her eyes and, seeing her growing discomfort, Sam rested a hand on her arm.

Turning to face his wife, Dean placed his hand briefly over the top of hers and winked at her affectionately, though his expression was far from jovial.

"I'll be right back," he assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before he took a deep breath and gestured for the stony faced Lisa to follow him out into the hall of the community centre.

"Let's uh... pick out a bean bag, huh?" Sam suggested, steering Jo gently across the room toward a mound of brightly coloured pillows and supports. He hardly supposed that she would care whether or not she bagged a hot pink one, as some of the women seemed insistent upon, but there was a reason he didn't claim to be the master of distraction techniques.

"So, that's Lisa?!" Jo mused, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth as she smoothed her hand over her t-shirt, which was beginning to poof out over the top of her 'bump'.

"Jo," Sam warned, halting her steps by placing his hands on her shoulders. He gazed down at her with an incredulous smile on his face, "Dean's not an idiot and... you know he's crazy about you."

Jo mustered a half-hearted smile of acknowledgement even as she mentally cursed her currently non-threatening demeanour. There was just something about the ginormous wad of padding front and centre that did very little to add credibility to her glowering.

"So," Lisa began, waiting until the doors had swung closed behind them before she rounded on Dean, "that's Jo, huh?"

The emphasis she placed on the name caused Dean to frown in confusion. Like most other areas of his life as a hunter, the loss of Jo and Ellen had not been something he had felt the need or desire to share with Lisa, and so he simply had not; instead, he had kept his memories of the woman he had once hoped to love safely contained inside himself, where they had haunted him alone. Before a question could form on his lips, however, Dean found himself greeted with an explanation.

"You talk in your sleep, Dean," Lisa informed him evenly, her hands now planted on her hips as she leant back against the wall.

"Look, Lisa... I'm sorry, I really am..." he began, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I couldn't even get you to go out to dinner with me in all the time we were together and now you're married? How does that work?" Lisa interrupted, her eyes blazing, although she was careful not to raise her voice in case her clients overheard.

"Lisa, it's…" Dean started in earnest, gulping as Lisa jabbed a finger into his chest. She shook her head, causing her dark ponytail to whip at her cheeks.

"It's bullshit, is what it is," she hissed, leaning forwards and narrowing her eyes. "This is my third fresh start in as many years, thanks to you and the crap you brought into mine and Ben's lives. We're getting it together here and now you rock up, pregnant wife in tow, and don't expect it to make waves?"

"I didn't even realise you lived here," Dean yelped defensively, his own tone growing confrontational now in the face of Lisa's unwarranted fury. Whilst he could understand their shared history evoking an emotional response, he could not help but find his own temper ignited by Lisa's presumption that his presence was a deliberate attempt to inconvenience her.

"Oh come on," she growled, rolling her eyes as she added, "my name was at the main desk as the teacher of this class."

"Oh like I read what I was signing," Dean snarled back, rubbing the nape of his neck with the palm of one hand as he glared at Lisa through narrowed eyes. "Believe it or not, not everything is all about you. We're here working a job…"

"Oh no," Lisa snapped, shaking her head with an incredulous snort, "not in my class. You guys can just turn around and march your asses out that door. Last time I saw you, I ended up in a coma."

"The only reason you've got this gig is because the bendy old broad here before you has probably been eaten by something dark and nasty, maybe as an appetiser to the other folks who've gone missing around here," Dean spat, glancing toward the door to make sure nobody was listening.

"That's all you care about, isn't it? Hunting?" she shook her head, smiling almost sadly as she peered up at him with an expression verging on pitying.

"We save lives," Dean replied evenly, arching an eyebrow as he added, "and we're working this job."

Jamming his hands in his pockets, Dean made an attempt to move toward the door but stopped dead in his tracks as he suddenly found Lisa blocking his path.

"You dragged your pregnant wife on a hunt? Are you using her as bait or just to blend in around here? Do you even care about that baby… or is it disposable, like Ben and I were?"

Dean shook his head, at once angered and bemused by her attitude toward his relationship with Ben. Whilst Lisa had been happy to have him play the proverbial 'dad' when it suited her, she had made it abundantly clear that decisions regarding Ben's welfare or discipline were strictly her concern. Dean was not his father and, even in the moments where he and Lisa's relationship had been more stable, he had never been under the illusion that Lisa viewed him as a suitable parent to her child.

"First of all, I haven't 'dragged' Jo anywhere. She's a hunter," he retorted, licking his lips as he fought against the bubbling tide of his temper, "this life, it's hers too, and it's who she is as much as me and Sammy."

Lisa rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Well then, I hope she won't mind putting her 'Buffy' routine on ice once that kid shows up and you do what you do best- _leave_."

Dean's jaw clenched in anger, and although his first instinct was to expose the 'child's' identity as nothing more than a wad of foam padding, his temper was making him increasingly more spiteful by the second. He decided that perhaps stringing Lisa along for a time would serve her right, pushing aside any errant thoughts of guilt that surfaced at the prospect.

"Are you going to treat us like paying customers or what?" Dean demanded, ignoring Lisa's icy glare and equally cold demeanour. The woman grimaced but stepped aside to allow Dean back through the door.

"If you endanger any of the people here, Dean," she began through clenched teeth, "I mean it, I'll…"

"Whatever, sister," Dean grumbled, giving Lisa a noticeably wide berth as he stepped back into the room to find that Sam and Jo had already selected a spot on the floor and were fielding the well-meaning chatter of several other couples.

"So, if that guy's your husband, then who's this?" a woman with short, slicked back dark hair inquired as she peered first at Jo and then at Sam. She fluttered her long lashes almost seductively as her gaze came to rest on the younger Winchester, who found himself blushing at the attention. Her plump lips formed an easy smile, which faded quickly as the woman beside her, heavily pregnant and obviously uncomfortable, elbowed her in the ribs.

"I'm sorry about my sister," the mother-to-be exclaimed, shooting her sibling a long and murderous glare, which she punctuated with a sniff. "Keisha doesn't mean to be rude, it just kinda happens."

"This is my brother in-law, Sam" Jo replied, glancing up as Dean strode back into the room, removing his jacket and slinging it onto a nearby chair before he took Sam's place behind his wife.

"Everything okay?" Jo asked, trying to shake the jealousy prickling at her.

"Everything's fine," Dean replied, noting how the other couples were sitting before easing a bemused Jo back against his chest.

"You sure?" Jo glanced up at him, slightly taken aback as he appeared to momentarily study her face and a wistful smile overcame his features.

"Dean?" she repeated as he pressed his lips to her cheek and rested his forehead against her temple. Dean simply wrapped his arms around her from behind without responding to the query, uncertain of just how much he should say on the subject of Lisa given their audience.

"Hey there, Wendy," he said grinning, resting both hands on top of the bump.

"Shut up!" Jo scoffed as she rolled her eyes and laughed, before releasing the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. She settled into Dean's arms and rested her hands on his knees.

His breath caressed her earlobe as he spoke, "You know... you know I'd never leave you, right?"

"What? Leave me alone to raise our throw pillow?" Jo whispered with a smirk, craning her neck to look back at him. Dean chuckled but nodded nonetheless, unwilling to disclose Lisa's barbs for the moment, or to admit just how deeply they had cut.

"I know, Dean-o," she assured him, reaching up and pressing her palm to his cheek as she caught the undercurrent of discomfort in his tone.

"So, I'm sorry, but... why is your brother in-law here?" Keisha inquired, leaning forward to catch Jo's gaze as the blonde visibly started.

"Well, I... he... we thought that..." Jo babbled, eyes widening helplessly as she looked back at Dean for some sort of support.

"I'm their doula," Sam supplied, affixing a beaming smile on his face as he threw his head back and nodded for effect.

Grumbling under her breath, the brunette folded her arms across her chest and addressed her sister, "Why are all the hot ones always gay?! Seriously..."

"Doula? What the hell is one of those?" Dean hissed, leaning toward his brother in utter confusion.

Sam sighed and appeared to ponder Dean's question, searching for an explanation his sibling would comprehend, "They're like Yoda for pregnant women."

Seeming satisfied with the answer, Dean nodded and reluctantly allowed his gaze to fall upon Lisa, who had settled in the centre of the circle of expectant parents, legs crossed and all smiles as she prepared to begin the class, which was already running several minutes late.

"Hi guys," she began, adopting an excitable tone that seemed to match the expression spread across her face. "My name is Lisa and I'm going to be leading the class in the coming weeks until a suitable permanent replacement for Ms. Constavos has been found."

She paused in her evidently rehearsed monologue, allowing for a brief murmur of approval to surge through her audience before she continued.

"I'm a fully qualified Yoga instructor, and I teach 'Mommy and Me Yoga' here at the centre. I'll be hoping to see some of you in my classes after your little ones have arrived, and I'll be happy to answer any questions at the end of the session. Right now, why don't we begin by re-introducing ourselves? If you'd like to tell me your names, ages, and due dates, then we'll begin with some light meditative breathing?"

The rest of the class passed in a haze of uncomfortable conversation and breathing techniques that Jo was certain were designed to induce a panic attack rather than encourage relaxation. Lisa remained curt and dismissive of the three hunters, but thankfully not enough to raise suspicion amongst the other members of the group.

Sam found himself the object of inquisitive stares and approving smiles, and he played the part of the doting uncle and doula with an alarming level of commitment. Jo fidgeted under the watchful and wholly analytical glare of the new tutor, conscious that the gold band that adorned her finger was acting as a proverbial beacon to Dean's ex-flame.

Making sure to smile at the appropriate times, and trying not to enjoy Jo's obvious disdain, Dean scanned the faces of the expectant parents and their birth partners, hoping some gesture or action would alert him to well-concealed supernatural identity. Yet as the class came to an end, Dean was left with only one conclusion - these people were all merely crazy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors – **WelshWitch1011 & Silverspoon

**Rating -** T

**Genre – **Complete and utter crack!

**A. N. - **Wendy needs a middle name. Suggestions in reviews?

**'The Claw That Rocks the Cradle'**

**Chapter Three**

Jo had tossed 'Wendy' aside as if she was playing basketball upon entering the motel room, deliberately aiming for the mound of bags piled up in the corner.

"Jo!" Dean scolded, shaking his head as he watched his wife stretching her arms out above her head and rolling her aching shoulders, obviously relishing her new found freedom.

"What?" Jo demanded, planting her hands on her hips as she turned to glare at Dean, who shrugged.

"Terry made me put a $40 deposit down on that thing," he explained, his tone somewhat less scolding as he suffered and squirmed under the considerable weight of Jo's glare.

She clutched the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing and smoothed the material down across her now flat and toned stomach, a relieved smile playing across her lips.

"I can see my feet!" she breathed, throwing herself backwards onto the bed behind and reaching above her head to touch the bedpost with her fingertips. Chuckling, Dean slapped Jo playfully on the rear as she rolled off the bed again.

Jo sauntered into the adjoining bathroom and began to draw a bath. Her mind wandered over the events of the afternoon as she squeezed the miniature bottle of bubble bath under the water and watched it produce mounds of foam.  
"You want pizza or Chinese?" Dean called out from the bedroom, shattering her reverie.  
"Whatever," she replied, for once finding herself relatively unconcerned over their choice of takeout. Other matters were at the forefront of her mind and, whilst the hunt was still high on her priorities list, the nagging voice that sounded a lot like Lisa Braeden refused to be silenced.  
Sitting perched on the edge of their bed, Dean only glanced at the menu in his hand before he narrowed his eyes and sighed in contemplation. Ambling toward the bathroom, Dean stood in the doorway, smiling to himself when he arrived just in time to watch his naked wife step into the tub.  
"Something on your mind, sweetheart?" he inquired, knowing all too well just what had rendered Jo so uncharacteristically quiet all afternoon.

Jo shrugged and the water sloshed gently around her shoulders. Tendrils of hair escaped the messy bun at the back of her head, and she simply peered down through the sweet smelling steam and chewed on her bottom lip.

"So, that's Lisa, huh?" Jo began suddenly, watching as Dean stifled a smile and slid down onto the floor to slump against the bathroom cabinet.

He nodded, obviously concerned by Jo's discomfort, but amazed and slightly hurt that she would feel at all threatened by his old flame. Even though Dean had attempted to create a life with Lisa once, he had done so more out of his profound desire to fulfill the promise he had made to his brother, rather than due to any overwhelming feelings for Lisa. She had been unable to accept Dean for the hunter he was, the brother he was, or indeed the man he was and, as a consequence, things could never have worked out between them the way Dean envisaged with Jo.

Jo dropped her head back against the back of the tub, declaring, "She seems real... bendy."

"Jo… sweetheart…" Dean began, the words escaping on a breath that was almost a sigh.

"Dean," Jo answered levelly, cocking her head at her husband, who only repeated his weary sigh.

"You know you're the only bendy woman for me."

Jo snorted with laughter, her shoulders trembling as she shook her head at his lack of eloquence.

"That's smooth, Winchester," she commended, circling her index finger around a collection of bubbles that drifted towards her on the water. She was careful to never meet Dean's gaze, not yet confident that her smile and bravado would hold up when confronted with the pair of green eyes that knew her only too well.

"Thanks, Winchester," Dean replied, pointedly emphasising their shared surname. Despite herself and her currently sour mood, Jo found a smirk creeping into place upon her lips.

"I'm doing the whole 'crazy, possessive wife' thing, I know, it's just... it's kind of weird. Especially when I know that you and her were..." she trailed off, finally acknowledging Dean's gaze as he came to stoop at the side of the tub.

Dean reached out and twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. His expression darkened as he allowed his thoughts to drift back to Carthage, the events in the months thereafter, and everything that he had lost during that time. These were the things that had led him to consider seeking solace with Lisa, along with the misconception that a 'normal' life was what he truly wanted.

"Things were different back then, Jo," he swallowed hard, "I'd lost everyone I loved, there was nothing left of this life. Hell, there was nothing left of me. I figured I'd become someone else, forget the past, move on... I watched a lot of 'Oprah'."

He smiled to lighten the mood, but the smile never quite brought the correct light to his features.

"Dean..." Jo began, placing her hand over his to signal that no further explanation was necessary.

Dean shook his head, wanting to continue, "Thought I could forget about everything, forget everyone, but... this is who I am, this life, it's part of me, you know?! I don't know how to be anyone else. And I never forgot you, Jo."

He watched his finger trace a haphazard pattern down her arm, his fingertips gliding over her damp skin.

Jo nodded, her expression earnest as she reached one hand from beneath the bubbles and rested it tenderly against the curve of Dean's jaw.

"We don't have to do this," she insisted, her upper front teeth pressing a little too fiercely into her bottom lip as she paused, before adding, "I know how you feel about me, Dean. We don't have to wade through a tonne of bad memories for me to see that."

"You sure you're going to be okay working this one?" asked Dean, leaning into Jo's touch and gazing at her with such unchecked concern that she rolled her eyes on impulse.

"I can deal with Lisa," she vowed, just the faintest tinge of hostility resonating in her voice. Dean almost paled at the idea, and Jo was forced to laugh at his very obvious concern for her ability to check her temper when required.

"Relax, honey," she soothed, flicking water at Dean's chest, "I can behave myself. I'll play the good little wife and 'Mommy'."

Dean guffawed at the suggestion, one eyebrow raised and his head cocked as he shot Jo an amused glance. She grinned back at him, waggling both eyebrows.

"But if Lisa pisses me off, her ass is as toasted as the monster's," Jo vowed, smiling sweetly at Dean, who gulped.

Dean managed a smile despite his low level anxiety. Lisa had certainly displayed hostility toward Jo, and he knew his wife's patience was being suitably tested; and patience was a virtue his new spouse could certainly not be accused of possessing.

"Okay," he said softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss against her lips as Jo inclined her face toward his.

Jo drew back and surveyed the tub she reclined in with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "There's room for two?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Dean said in a rush, ridding himself of his clothing in an admirably speedy display that left Jo chuckling at his enthusiasm.

"And then we order takeout..." she directed, scooting forward to allow him to sit behind her.

He drew her back against him and Jo beamed as she leaned against his chest, where his arms encircled her waist.

"Pizza? Maybe some onion rings and a couple of cheese burgers," Dean enthused, already anticipating dinner. His stomach grumbled at the promise of sustenance and Jo giggled as she craned her neck to regard him.

"I kind of want Chinese," she said, lifting a foot out of the water and wiggling her toes through a cluster of bubbles and suds.

She watched as Dean pondered her suggestion with obviously little enthusiasm, then grinned as she nestled into the crook of his neck, "Wendy wants Chinese..."

"Wendy the scatter cushion?" Dean answered, one eyebrow arched as he stared down at Jo, who pouted back at him.

"Come on, Dean-o," she encouraged, beginning to nibble on his neck as she traced a soapy finger down his chest, "you got me fake pregnant. The least you can do is indulge my fake cravings!"

Dean shook his head, chuckling despite himself, and he nipped Jo's waist with his fingers under the water. She squealed and shifted a little, slapping a wet palm back against his thigh in response.

"I thought you wanted me to be committed to this under cover job?" Jo inquired innocently, fighting hard to keep the smile from pervading her face.

"Fine," Dean sighed dramatically, his libido suddenly catching up with his appetite as he realised he was holding a very naked, very appealing blonde in his arms.

Grinning, he began to drag a path of kisses down her neck as his hands inched steadily up to explore her soapy breasts, "Wanna practice that whole 'fake' conception thing again?"

Jo didn't bother replying, letting the heated kiss she instigated serve as her answer. The water sloshed high against the side of the tub, and Dean smiled against her lips as she turned in his embrace and looped her arms around his neck.

Casting a glance out toward the bedroom and at the wad of foam padding that lay prostrate on the floor, Dean gathered his wife into his arms and groaned at the sensation of her warm, slick skin against his.

"Wendy... you better close your eyes."

**x-x-x**

Jo speared a floret of broccoli triumphantly with her plastic fork, gazing across the table at her husband with a grin in place as she popped the vegetable into her mouth and immediately took up the challenge of wrapping a heap of noodles around the prongs.

"What about the woman that was hitting on Sam?" Dean suggested, taking a loud slurp from his can of soda and shooting an amused look at Sam, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Nobody was hitting on me," Sam snapped defensively, "most of them were pregnant… that's just gross, dude."

Dean guffawed and Jo raised an eyebrow, both of them clearly amused.

"You want to go in there tomorrow and tell a room full of hormonal, pregnant chicks that they're 'gross'?" Dean suggested, his wide smirk implying that he genuinely hoped that Sam intended to do just that.

Sam's eyes widened in horror, "No! Look, can we just focus on the hunt, please?"

"Sure thing," Dean assented, leaning back in his seat and patting his stomach as he let out a loud belch. His immediate grin was proud.

"Nice. Real nice, Dean," Sam said witheringly as Jo wrinkled her nose and busied herself with biting into an egg roll.

"What can I say? I'm a classy guy," Dean agreed, picking up a spare rib and biting down on the end of it as he mulled over their present case.

"Okay, so... kind of hard to figure who's acting a little off since pretty much everybody in there is a total lunatic. So, what's the plan? You think we can unzip Junior over there and hide a little EMF meter in the padding?" Dean glanced from Sam to Jo and back again.

"I think people would notice if Jo's belly started beeping at them, Dean," Sam retorted, accepting the brown paper sack of prawn crackers that Jo offered to him. He withdraw a cracker, examined it for several drawn out seconds and then bit into it with conviction.

"Nah, we could just say the kid was advanced," Dean answered, shrugging unconcernedly.

"Or related to R2D2," Jo suggested, snickering as she added a liberal helping of hot sauce to her food. Sam shot a surprised glance at the blonde, both eyebrows shooting up as he contemplated the pop culture reference.

"You've seen Star Wars?" he stated more than queried. Dean nodded proudly, encircling one arm around Jo's shoulder and dragging her into his chest, almost causing her to choke on a mouthful of food.

"I educated her," he said, pride evident in his tone. "None of that modern crap. Just the Fisher years."

Jo rolled her eyes at Sam but shrugged nonetheless.

"It wasn't half bad," she admitted, "I made it through the first thirty minutes."

"Jo, those movies are over two hours long… each," said Sam, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement.

Jo nodded, picking up her drink and sucking decisively on the straw, swallowing down her diet coke before she replied, "And I saw thirty minutes of each movie. Long lost siblings, the whole evil dad thing, space ships, giant slug dudes with big, creepy tongues..."

"Gold bikinis," Dean enthused, allowing his mind to wander to perhaps his first boyhood crush. There wasn't a red blooded male in all of America, he reasoned, who hadn't fallen deeply and madly in lust with Princess Leia.

Jo laughed and rolled her eyes, "And who knew Harrison Ford was so hot?!"

Dean's smile waned, and he dipped his finger in the tray of barbecue rib sauce and licked it absently, "If you're into that kind of thing."

Sam leaned on the wad of news reports and files on the table before him, and he diplomatically avoided Jo's gaze as he asked the question that had been plaguing him since Lisa's impromptu appearance.

"How come Lisa still remembers you?" he began, his brows furrowed in confusion, "I thought Cas erased their memories after… y'know..."

Dean glared sharply at his brother and Sam watched as Jo's shoulders visibly tensed. He winced, giving himself a sharp, mental kick that he could tell his older brother was longing to deliver corporeally.

"I guess this is kind of an awkward subject," Sam said softly, smiling at Jo by way of apology before turning his best repentant look upon Dean.

"No, it is a good question," Jo agreed, her eyes still downcast as she picked at the corner of a takeaway carton with her thumbnail.

"Short answer, you're a freakin' idiot," Dean growled, making no effort to mask his annoyance as he flicked a spare plastic fork at his brother, who bore the assault willingly. "Long answer- you're still a freakin' idiot but I have no idea. I'd sure as hell like to know, though."

"Should we maybe… call him down here?" suggested Sam somewhat sheepishly for fear of inciting Dean's wrath once again. However, Dean appeared unconcerned by the idea, and turned a questioning gaze upon Jo, who shook her head.

"It's not important right now," she replied, her tone coloured by bitterness as she added, "and it won't change anything anyways. I'd rather just get this job done and then get gone."

"You sure?" Dean checked, "we could always get him to haul ass down here and see if he can put the whammy back on her. It'd make this a whole lot easier on all of us."

"She did seem pretty upset to see us there," Sam said, an almost smile wavering so rapidly across his lips that Jo was uncertain as to whether she had imagined it. However, the way Sam looked quickly away and began shoveling pork into his mouth instead, told her that she had not.

Jo cleared her throat and glanced up at her brother in-law from behind a fan of blonde lashes. She began to twist the gold band on her finger as a distraction, trying to quell the smile she felt tugging at her lips.

"Did you... I mean, I guess this is none of my business, but... did you guys not... not get along?"

Dean arched an eyebrow, swallowing down a mouthful of soda as he considered what was possibly the understatement of the century. Sam cleared his throat and looked to his brother, seeking confirmation that he could discuss Dean's year in suburbia without fear of being covertly kicked under the table.

"Uh, well... I uh... I think Lisa maybe felt threatened by how close..."

Dean guffawed.

"Think you mean 'unnaturally co-dependent'," he corrected, Lisa's scathing words echoing in his mind, along with the familiar sting of having endured them the first time round.

Sam smiled tightly, speaking through clenched teeth as he continued, "I guess I wasn't her favourite person."

"Well, you're not always mine, either," Dean quipped, grinning and ducking as Sam balled up a napkin and threw it in his direction.

"Bitch," Sam retorted, amusement dancing behind his eyes as he raised his soda to his lips again.

"You know it, Sammy," answered Dean, winking at Jo as he slid the can across the table to her waiting hand. Jo grasped the soda, flashing Dean a smile of thanks before sucking in a breath in order to continue.

"Didn't that… y'know… make things hard between you two?" Jo queried, now genuinely curious despite the fact that contemplating Dean's intimacy with another woman was entirely new and unwelcome territory. Jo had always accepted the fact that Dean and Sam were closer than most siblings, mainly due to the facts that Dean had always served as his brother's protector from actual harm, and when he had become of age, Sam had reciprocated likewise. Dean had had more of a hand in raising Sam than many fathers had in raising their own children, and it was one thing that Jo respected her husband for more than anything; his ability to set aside his own childhood in order to ensure that his kid brother was allowed to retain some semblance of his. Jo knew that, one day, if they decided to add to their family, any children she may have could not hope for a better father than Dean.

Dean cleared his throat and stared at the napkin in his hand as he repeatedly screwed it up in his fist.

He hadn't loved Lisa. Despite his best efforts to convince himself he did, her hostility toward his brother and her total refusal to accept any element of his past had meant their relationship had in essence been doomed from the start.

Dean tried to dismiss it with a smile. "We weren't exactly Brangelina."

Jo nodded, unable to shake the infuriating combination of jealousy and curiosity that had overcome her.

Dean sighed, a sudden and unexpected sense of peace descended on him as he glanced around the table at his sibling and his new wife; two people who knew him perhaps better than anybody, and who loved him in spite of every last trait he hated in himself.

He could never have been the man Lisa desperately wanted him to become, and she would always have seen his relationship with Sam and his need to help others as a weakness. Dean knew that, had he stayed, Lisa's ultimatums would only have led to one possible choice; a choice made so much easier by the fact that his heart quite simply did not belong to her.

Jo saw his flaws but she accepted them as readily as he did hers. Lisa had sneered at his relationship with Sam whilst Jo instead saw loyalty and devotion, and was touched by the unbreakable bond that existed between the two. Similarly, where Lisa had tried to banish every last trace of hunting from Dean's life, Jo admired his bravery and unyielding determination.

"So… suspects!" Sam enthused, desperate to steer the conversation into warmer waters after the sharp detour he had caused. Jo shot Sam a grateful look, and he smiled at his sister-in-law, thankful not for the first time that Dean had made the right decision regarding the person he had chosen to share his life with.

Together, Dean and Jo reached for the various piles of evidence and assorted crime folders, preparing for another evening of marital bliss that involved leafing through stills of corpses and researching paranormal species long into the early hours of the next morning.


End file.
